"Silent Knight" is not really a complete story... It has captions on 
Kunimitzu's views of the tournament. She's perhaps the character I 
love the most in Tekken2 and somehow... I don't know. Maybe, if she 
tried to talk of what she had seen, that is how she would narrate it.
It will only be fair to warn you that a few scenes might pass as 
unfit for underaged, as I doubted anyone would ever read Kunimitzu's 
story and therefore I enhanced them a bit... Blame it on Kazuya. He 
is so downright raw.
Sis, _IF_ you ever read this a huge big THANK YOU! goes out to you, 
for there is no way I could have come up with a title...

Silent Knight - by Sapfarah ( sapfarah@geocities.com )

Because she had no voice, I will speak my words for her
My voice will be bestowed upon her and pray my ears are clear enough 
to hear her truths.


	To speak of a sentiment, one has to know it. It has to be 
identified, fastened and expressed.
	Kunimitzu could not  speak of what she felt.
	She understood it was fear, because her heart was pounding so 
fast she dreaded her persecutors would hear it and the sweat pouring 
down her body was that cold sticky one the animals and primitive 
beings have the power to detect. She could. In her grasp, she was 
making her track only too clear for them.
	Crawling wall by wall, she moved silently through the filthy 
narrow streets of Tokyo, holding her long scythe knife always at 
readiness. 
	Failure. But how was she to speak of an emotion so delicate for 
her apprehension? She knew something was out of place, something that 
had she done otherwise would have spared her this scary situation, 
that being as far as she could think of and yet, she realised this 
detriment in the way an animal would realise the rock that has fallen 
has blocked the exit of the cave it was trapped inside.
	She went on fleeing from her unseen pursuers. Only a day before 
she was one of them. Now, all those she had joined them in doing, 
hunting, stealing, slaughtering, were targeted upon her. It made no 
difference she had almost risen to the leadership and induced so many 
of them. Right now, she was a no one. She was the target and the past 
was gone for good. The ones loyal to Yoshimitzu won over. She was to 
be executed. She knew if they caught her, she would be.
	Disappointment. That was an even heavier concept. To know 
disappointment, she had to know, if not success, at least the feeling 
of having a goal, left alone knowing she had missed it. Indeed she 
had a vision in mind, vague and hardly detailed or deeply thought in 
the following and materialising and she only knew what she saw was 
not it.
	Then again, she didn't have the margin to consider her 
emotions, not when she knew her pursuers were only steps away. She 
had just escaped their grasps only instants before. They couldn't 
have lost her trail too much. They were around. Somewhere here...
	"There she is!" yelled one of them and in a sprint she dashed 
away, turning to another narrow street with them at her track.
	How much more could she go on fleeing? If not for the physical 
exhaustion, what about this other shaking fear inside her chest, this 
thing that raised the ebb and flow of her breath to a manic thumping? 
She had very little control of her running legs and only one thought 
was in her mind. A quiet hideout, where they could never see her, a 
shelter where she would disappear and all of these would be gone...
	The streets were more crowded than before but they all stepped 
away as she run ahead, dreading either her proposed knife or mostly 
the four Manji ninjas at her track, all fearsomely adorned with 
canine teeth and metallic objects, their faces being horrific 
masquerades of beastly carnage. Those were the Manji. Evil was what 
they were, death was what they brought. They belonged to no one, they 
obeyed no rules but their own. Those rules instructed destruction. 
Now the rules were those of Yoshimitzu and they did not apply to her 
as being part of them. Certainly not a part to remain attached to the 
clan.
	The roads kept narrowing, her maddened speeding slowed down, 
that not applying to her pursuers. This time it was for real. She 
could not run away. There was few alternative and the fight she tried 
to spare herself was steadily approaching her.
	As the one closer to her raised a mace for her spine, she 
halted and leaping backwards, plucked a heel on his abdomen, that 
forcing him to fold in mid air. During the time though, the other 
three had come close and rushed on her. She barely kept them away 
with a swing of the knife and in a frantic attempt, she got into the 
fight for her life.
	People gathered around them but she didn't notice. She tried to 
parry attacks of four people at a time, that forcing her to dance on 
her feet, her hands working fast in fierce strikes. One blade sliced 
her side and she was lucky to see it and step back before it was 
inserted in her ribs.
	She swung about, crying threatening purrs but she knew, as well 
as everyone else, her pursuers especially, that she would soon befall 
at their hands. They were one too many and merely trying to restrain 
them to two opponents at a time was impossible. The crowd was 
hostile, somehow they disliked her... why? She had no idea why they 
chose to support her four attackers, maybe their outnumbering was 
reason enough but all the same, they even appeared eager to see her 
surrender. When she stepped a little behind to reach for the circle, 
she was even pushed back. She was even denied the option of escape...
	Antipathy? How far was she to distinguish the sense of 
righteousness for the offence of her heart from the need to defend 
herself? She didn't know where to owe this sensation but bitterness 
spread in her heart, loading upon her chest in an emotion of her 
being mouldering. But she wouldn't surrender. Never. Not without a 
battle. A new slash down her thigh hindered her further but if they 
wanted her dead, they would better kill her. She wouldn't go down 
alive. She would not surrender, not while she still had strength 
within her.
	She was dangerously close to that turning point though. She 
herself knew she couldn't keep sufficient distance anymore and she 
had circled enough backwards. One approached a step too close and 
although she slapped his face with a roundhouse, he had enough 
momentum to push her all the way back. 
	She lost her balance. Reeling out of her control and for the 
floor, she had known it to be her end.
	She was mighty surprised when instead of impacting the hard 
ground and following of severe battering, she was plaited in two 
supportive hands.
	Her mind halted as completely stunned she looked up at the man 
who had seized her. An equally astonished expression was read upon 
his exquisite face as she met his eyes... deep dark and strangely 
dire as he stared at her and the immense power in them forced her to 
an inner shudder. Somehow time halted where she looked at his face 
which looked so substantial, crowned by dense, deeply black, upwardly 
swept hair and despite his purely devilish thick brows pointing down 
to his slight nose, accenting the intensely mean impression of his 
person, she perceived him as nothing but the personification of 
boldness and compassion.
	One could argue how beings of inferior aptitude see beyond 
pretensions or just see what they want to see, taking the first 
impression without consideration. Arguably most do but there is 
always the allowance of a second thought. Kunimitzu didn't even 
consider that border but then, her initial perception was immediately 
verified. Involuntarily she placed two clutching palms on his 
sleeves, attempting to raise to her feet and so she felt him helping 
her up, when, displaying amazing speed and stamina, he flung her to 
his side. She didn't understand why he did so, until when she looked 
back, she saw he had just saved her life by sweeping off his feet one 
of the attackers who sneaked upon her back.
	His hands released her and immediately she resumed her knife to 
attack readiness. Around them, the crowd had silenced as they begun 
backing off. The man appeared to realise his situation but he didn't 
appear to be seized in fright. His fists clenched in readiness and 
she stepped next to him, watching the other four preparing to attack 
with their intentions upon him.
	She gave a better look at him. He was dressed in expensive 
clothes that fitted his apparently capable body to perfection and his 
skin was of one who has the opulence to offer himself a healthy 
nutrition and luxurious body care but at the same time it was like a 
refined layer above one that wasn't unfamiliar with rough life such 
as... hers... More she noticed how his hair were cropped in an 
extraordinary manner, to sharp, lustrously black, tall strands and 
though she could only see the side of his face, she was stunned to 
read the omnipotence in his eyes... He didn't have to even snare 
them. It would be impossible to look into these eyes for too long... 
knowing there would be such determination to carry out their 
intention of death...
	"This is our business, stranger!" one of her pursuers stated. 
"Step out!"
	"Attacking anyone behind the back is dishonourable, especially 
if it's a woman", he said without hesitation and there was tremendous 
decisiveness in his voice. His eyes augmented even more looking at 
him.
	By now she had suspected he was a fighter himself, his casualty 
in dealing with the armed Manji was more than an indication. But he 
would be as good as lost against them. Besides... he had showed 
concern about her... she didn't want him to be caught into this. He 
didn't deserve it, after standing up for her, he of all the others in 
this crowd...
	Affection? Could she have known this emotion and could she 
direct it towards that stranger who had practically saved her life, 
even if only for a few more moments? Could she trust him and repay 
him with alike cordiality? Probably it was too early to tell and the 
sentiment was not one clearly formed but she was determined to follow 
it.
	Stepping forward, she stretched her hand protectively before 
him to make him back off, purring threateningly towards the others, 
as the sharp edge of her knife greeted them. The man however didn't 
move away. Instead he brought up his fists, ready to be shelled to 
the first fool to come close enough.
	"It's ok love... It's two of us." she heard him whisper and was 
all the more surprised. She had no idea why a complete to her 
stranger would choose to act at her side... but she surely was moved. 
A little before it was a flee for whatever was left of her life, with 
the only hope for another day, a futile fight to survive. This time, 
it was something brand new. It was a fight for something new-found 
she wanted to preserve. Friendship? Alliance? Whatever the word was, 
it felt like a missing piece she did not intend to let go of. She 
would fight over it.
	Her hold of the blade tightened as the new fight begun.
	They shared the opponents and fresh interest rose from the 
spectators. Her knife slashed flesh and his punches bruised wherever 
they contacted. They dealt with them in perfect accordance, his 
strength and agility pairing her sly acute and swift blows. It was 
soon over, as he locked the last left standing of his opponents with 
an arm twist behind the back, finishing him with a pushing kick that 
audibly cracked his spine and she sent hers with a jumping roundhouse 
slamming on the nearby wall. As her victim was crashed at her 
strength, she felt it was a heavy load she kicked away from her and 
all of a sudden, she felt teemed, happy and free...
	Freedom... She didn't have to be an intellectual to grasp that 
emotion...
	They stopped standing back to back, still in readiness, among 
four smashed rivals, in the centre of the crowd. When the spectators 
begun cheering at them, appraisingly waving their arms, as none of 
their enemies moved as much as a limb, she looked back at him. He 
slowly eased but didn't turn back at her as he walked away through 
the crowd that parted for him. She regarded his stately walking and 
how, even though he appeared indifferent and his expensive suit was 
now irreparably damaged, somehow everyone still faced him with 
expressions very close to even awe.
	It wasn't after the crowd closed again that she took the 
decision. She spun threateningly about her, purring with her knife 
proposed and they opened up for her to leave too, the disregard was 
no more on their faces. Ensuring she would not be further pursued, 
she left, going straight after him.

	From the crowded small opening she found herself into the 
utterly destitute narrow dark streets. She followed him through the 
paths he chose and as she fastened her knife at her belt, she took a 
piece of cloth in her hand. She halted momentarily and her steps were 
reduced to a reluctant pace after him.
	He walked indifferently, perhaps tired... but he stopped, 
having sensed her and when he looked back, she was fixed to where she 
stood. 
	She looked upon his face, lacking any specific expression but 
having a certain firmness in its stare. She dared not advance as his 
permanent? stern look slightly eased.
	"Oh, it's you..." he said with an almost colourless voice and 
perhaps expected her to speak but she didn't. She just stuttered 
where she stood and it was only by little she kept him before moving 
away by slowly walking towards him.
	Why did he have to be looking so intensely at her? He couldn't 
see her eyes, so it was easier for him to straightforwardly regard 
her face... but it wasn't the same for her. She had his dark chaotic 
eyes opposite her and fatigue along with his stare, reduced her steps 
to hesitant paces. By the time she had reached right before him, she 
hardly had any control of her breath... or her heart.
	He was looking upon her as with hands shaking, she raised the 
cloth to his face, to sweep a scratch but he halted her. It was with 
his palm that went on her way, gently refusing. She didn't dare to 
move. Not when her hand was in his, even if only to refrain her...
	He turned his back and walked away. But she came too far to go 
by. She run to him again and tapped upon his shoulder. He looked back 
at her and this time his eyes lowered. She had no way of knowing how 
he acted in his life... yet somehow she knew this was the closest he 
could do to a smile. She approached to his face again and again his 
hand stopped her.
	"That isn't necessary..." he muttered but gradually his voice 
trailed away... would she be wrong to say he was mesmerised? She 
wouldn't. She placed one more palm upon his shoulder and his lids 
lowered, his hand too and she placed the cloth upon his cheek, 
sweeping gently a swollen scratch. He didn't prevent her this third 
time. He appeared comforted at her care as he swallowed, shutting his 
eyes.
	"You've been a bad girl, haven't you?" he said in a low voice.
	She did not reply. What was she to say, when she didn't 
understand the manner of his question? She only knew it was in some 
concern she faintly understood and all she could think of was the 
devotion to relieving him from his pain... She knew she did that and 
in her silence, a warm new feeling flowed in through her body. Her 
hand smoothed the way down to his neck and in the unintended opening 
of his shirt.
	"You don't talk?" he asked again to her surprise. His voice, 
even though hard and very deep was a mellifluous one at the same 
time, so different to the steel like he used to his opponents only 
minutes before, so comforting in contrast to his harsh fighting 
yells. A voice so rich and smooth, with a stare so almost warm, it 
benumbed her. She halted just looking at him but nowhere as much as 
when his hand actually took a hold of hers resting upon him.
	Her surprise was twice as much when his hand reached for her 
face. Gently he got a hold of her foxen mask with firm intention to 
take it off, only right there the magic stopped. She felt cold with 
fright as he held onto the mask she'd been wearing nearly in every 
moment of her life for the past so many years she couldn't count. She 
only clasped around his hand and stopped him. She looked up to him 
and it was a rare occasion in which she faced the eyes of Kazuya 
Mishima, one occasion where they were not the hard cold granite eyes 
but curious, with a wondering expression that faintly reminded a 
child... Possibly since she was simple enough to see past his 
pretensions...
	"I can't..." she replied to his indirect question and saw his 
eyelids hoisting in interest, but the knitting of his brows told her 
he wasn't pleased. He wasn't the person to accept a denial and using 
all her courage, she swallowed to clear her throat.
	"I am a Manji... I am not allowed to take off my mask..."
	With no further protest, his eyes were restored to nowhere 
specifically but it took a while before he would retract his hand 
from her. It was only when he did that she could breathe again 
easily.
	"OK Manji... Do you have a name?" he asked soon afterwards.
	"Kunimitzu." she replied with few consideration. Within the 
manjito clan, the speaking was also scanty but Kunimitzu was how they 
referred to her. Besides, she couldn't think of another name. Yet a 
slight smile curved his lips.
	"Is that a name to call you by?" he asked and she found nothing 
to tell him. By now she had bundled the cloth within her fists and 
all she did was rotating it around her strong fingers.
	Kazuya was about to move on. As if stung, she stirred again 
towards him.
	"I know you," she said resolutely and he only stopped to laugh 
by himself.
	"You are not the only one~"
	"The Manji will come to your house tonight," she went on and 
the smile was gone. When he looked again with suspicion in his eyes, 
she was only pleased she could return the favour by giving away the 
secret of the clan that was out to kill her and loot his house as 
well. She stood firm before him, clenching at the piece of cloth.
	"The Manji will come to your house tonight... They will... Take 
my word."
	The same smile came up again and the eyes tried to pierce 
through hers but the mask was protecting her from revealing the 
embarrassing truth.
	"Why are you telling me?"
	"Because I owe you."
	"But you are a Manji."
	"Not anymore."
	A smile lined his lips and resolutely she nodded.
	"I will come with you tonight and I will protect your house. 
The manjis will not harm you..."
	To her words, he raised one brow and scoffed.
	"Nice try." he said and started walking on.
	"Wait!"
	To her call, he stopped and waited as she walked to him, 
holding her knife by the blade and proposed the handle to his face, 
her hand was steady but his eyes never looked at it, only remained 
upon her.
	"Take my knife. If I betray you, take my life with it."
	Silently she waited and then his hand reached hers and run 
along her coiled fingers as they climbed up to the handle and when he 
pulled it away, it slid with ease through her grip. Cold sweat had 
ensued on her real face and her heart was violently trembling, 
violently trilling, eagerly waiting. He smiled at her, a smirk wicked 
but... confident.
	"OK... We will wait for them together. If you betray me... It's 
going to be painful," he said. Then he pointed the tip of the blade 
at the shallow recess of her throat. She didn't move, not at the very 
least all the while until he removed the weapon from her neck. When 
he did so and walked on, she dutifully followed him.
	But she did not betray him. The Manji came indeed into his 
house that night but they were prepared. She had too helped them 
repel the attack and he had returned her the knife. But he didn't 
dismiss her. He let her stay at his house, where she remained 
afterwards, to the end.
	It only took one whole day for confidence to build between 
them. Possibly, since she was entirely artless, as she knew of no 
feints, neither could she detect his very skilled own. And he, 
probably didn't believe her to be as kind but seeing she didn't 
comprehend the loaded with sarcasm and hints manner of speaking, he 
used a plain way of talking with her. Thus, what she saw of him was 
an equally honest person and in their meagre interrelation, there was 
no misunderstanding.
	Yet they never shared emotions. She couldn't grasp those hefty 
sentiments that swarmed his mind and neither could she speak to him 
of that warmth that had spread into her heart, one that was directed 
to him... but how was she to tell him of a sentiment she didn't know 
of?
	He called her Manji afterwards. After a while, he used her 
proper name but soon it was shortened to Kuni. She called him her 
master and as such she obeyed and served him but he never abused her 
affection. The relationship they have founded remained one on an 
equal basis forever.

	Kunimitzu found it easy to adapt into her new home. She had for 
once in her life complete freedom, only that she didn't know of it, 
for neither when with the Manji did she miss that. She was treated 
respectfully by the rest of the employees of the house, who never 
spoke to her, only received the commands she transferred from her 
boss, if there were any.
	The only other person who talked to her was Lee Chaolan, a 
young man whom Kazuya seemed to regard as either his possession or a 
burden he willingly carried. She hadn't learned at once how Lee was 
Kazuya's foster brother, only from the first day she understood they 
weren't at good terms. She didn't know either how Lee was gradually 
turning into a drug addict. Yet she understood he didn't like her and 
similarly she decided she would develop an equal  antipathy for him.
	She was introduced to Lee in a peculiar way, once she walked 
through the main door of the mansion. Lee was fallen on a couch in a 
state between consciousness and sleep, fixed as they say. She sensed 
his eyes looking at her and then a long tired laughter begun rolling 
through stunned lips.
	"You went to find a woman, couldn't you have picked a nice 
one?" he said.
	"Be nice," Kazuya ordered. "Kunimitzu is staying with us from 
now on.
	"Aw, fuck!" Lee said, slamming his hand on the couch.
	Kunimitzu only looked at him.
	"Well, what do you know," Kazuya said. "I think she'll make a 
perfect bodyguard for you."
	"I don't want a fuckin bodyguard!" Lee shouted and as he stood 
up, Kazuya moved to him and very fast, his hand grabbed his collar 
and forced him back down, his fist pressing upon his neck, choking 
him from all sides.
	"You know... brother... The difference between you and her is 
that when I beat up somebody, you call me cruel... She doesn't say 
anything..." he said slowly. Lee didn't say a word.
	"Take care of him..." he then told her. "He doesn't look fit to 
stand on his own."
	Then he left, leaving them alone. Lee looked angrily at her.
	"You stay the hell away from me, bitch! You hear?" he 
threatened and as she didn't react, he gave her the finger.

	Life wasn't bad in the mansion... only there was some strange 
quietness over it. She wouldn't be wrong to assume her master feared 
for something... only she didn't know what it was, not until she saw 
it in the main hall.
	He had entered on his own will and the guards couldn't stop 
him, as he demanded to see the lord of the house. To the commotion, 
Kazuya went to look, from the balcony overlooking the main hall, she 
and Lee with him. And then, at what she saw, she was stunned.
	The face of the CEO of the Mishima Corporation... contorted to 
nothing like it was. For nobody could ever imagine this cold, 
calculating face dissolve to one of fading paleness, gasping for 
fiendish breath and the cruel eyes widen to the absolute astonished 
horror...
	"No!..." he panted and his lips fluttered involuntarily. 
"NO!..." he gasped louder and dashed at the bench, holding right at 
the rod.
	The large man in the black uniform merely faced him back and 
the serenity in his narrow, tiny eyes was dismal. His thin, almost 
unmarked lips below a lining moustache didn't stir and his breath 
didn't do as much as hoist his broad chest, unlike the one he 
confronted, who appeared ready to blow up.
	"It CAN'T be!" Kazuya panted looking down at him with fear too 
much to be reasoned solely upon the demonic appearance of two pointed 
tall strands of hair at either side of his otherwise bald scull of 
the one he confronted.
	"You have Always been only shouts and cries!" the man slowly 
pronounced, seemingly delighting the sheer fear in his face.
	Kazuya shook his head to either side. He was trembling with 
anxiety that did not befit either his age or his poise.
	"YOU CAN'T BE! NO!!!" he cried and his teeth gnashed, along 
with the clenching of his fists. His eyes scorched the man standing 
opposite him and had it not been for the four meter height, he would 
have pounced to his neck.
	"I have come to reclaim my property!" the man seethed. "I am 
here to challenge you in battle. Should you refuse, I will only work 
another approach upon you..."
	"SPELL YOUR CHALLENGE!" Kazuya yelled behind his teeth, 
interrupting him.
	"The King of the Iron Fist! The winner will take reign over the 
Zaibatzu and all of the Mishima property. The loser, will be thrown 
down a cliff..."
	"GRANTED!" he gnarled and his eyes below his thick brows met 
the ones so much like his own down the hall.
	"A volcano!..." he undertoned, almost boiling. "Let it be a 
volcano! I will make sure I will NEVER see you again!"
	"You will not." the man had said, his last words spoken, he 
cast a final loathing stare at his opponent and turned to leave.
	Kazuya's rage was steaming as he watched him going away, at 
ease. The guards didn't shoot him.
	As the man left, his fingers clenched on the wooden reef and 
growling he uprooted it from its foundations, throwing it down and 
raving he spun to fiercely clash on the wall behind him, ramming with 
his fists upon it.
	Lee, frightened at his steaming rage, retained his position 
away and swept his nose with the back of his palm, snorting at doing 
so. Kunimitzu only looked, her muscled arms folded at her chest.
	His palm leaned on the wall to support him. He wasn't even 
punching it anymore. His knuckles were scratched but they didn't 
bleed anymore. Not anymore. This strange calmness, whatever it was 
had taken over him once more. Like a cloak it concealed his rage and 
securely enfolded it, holding it deep inside of him. Everybody, even 
the servants and the guards, knew he wouldn't enrage that day 
anymore. They also knew they had more things to expect. Nobody 
bothered him, nobody dared move while he faced the wall with bent 
forehead.


	Not even a day later, Kazuya started preparations for the Iron 
Fist tournament. He put every other affair aside, focusing intensely 
on that. Kunimitzu was every step by his side for all the errands he 
might need but, even with the few, typical things he would say to her, 
she could tell he was not contented. Each day, he sunk deeper in that 
forlorn silence, each time speaking even less to her, until soon he 
even neglected her.
	Kunimitzu didn't mind his interest as much as his own sorrow... 
She was besieged with such worry about him. Her master who was so 
brave could never be imagined so deeply distressed... and she 
understood the roots of his torment were very deep. She didn't know 
of how this man who had come challenging him continued to dominate 
Kazuya, if only mentally... he never told her either, him or any 
other what fearful images of disgrace and torture he carried within 
him, how deeply the fear had plunged into his heart, so deep it had 
become as fundamental as the backbone of his personality... Yet the 
outcry of his possessed soul came clearly in her perception... She 
could hear it as a desperate cry of a drowned man and it tore her 
heart in two, not just because he was miserable but mainly because 
nothing she could do was enough to save him...
	It was that worry that led her to his bedroom that night. The 
door was not sealed so she pushed it gently, enough to be able to 
look inside.
	The bedroom was dark and from the open window the air swam 
inside, fluttering the light white curtains. Soft starlight and 
luminance of the full moon applied into the room, reaching with a 
light glow upon the bed of the sleeping lion.
	She halted, gasping her breath, admiring him as the soft light 
caressed his lying figure, but in her heart she couldn't abolish this 
fearful sensation she thought of receiving a pale, cold luminance 
having entwined him, one so dismal in her zealous heart, one that 
enshrouded him away from her touch...
	He appeared to be carved in stone as he laid on his chest, the 
thin sheet flimsily covering his strapping body, that being the only 
thing swaying to the light air breeze, the rest of him immobile as a 
statue. His face was turned to the side, among his arms and there, he 
appeared to be a calm, tranquil person... only she knew deep in his 
heart battled forces of great opposition.
	She walked to him and her steps didn't wake him up. With her 
eyes reading his exposed back, she kneeled upon the mattress and 
moving on four, she reached for him. Her hand kneaded on the hinder 
muscles of his shoulder and it was only then he jumped up and slapped 
the back of his fist across her mask, nearly removing it, flinging 
the hand she had placed upon him, halting immediately as he 
recognised her.
	Her nose had impacted with the mask, causing tears in the 
corners of her eyes but still in the dark, outside her slots, she saw 
the glimmer from his eyes. She didn't hear his breath but she could 
sense his tension, certainly not because of her.
	She stood still until he lowered his hand and lied back on the 
bed. He closed his eyes again and with no word of recognition, he 
allowed her to place both palms upon his neck. She did almost too 
eagerly.
	"I should have known, Kunimitzu..." his drowsed, low voice told 
her as she manipulated the muscles on the conjunction of the neck 
with the back.
	She breathed in and then she realised a fiery gleam regarding 
her from his face. She panted as she always did whenever she faced 
it, hoping every time that this one was the one she was longing so 
much for. Her palms rested upon him in expectation.
	Only for that little while he looked upon her, before closing 
his eyes once again in a soundless languor. Her fingers started 
rubbing the shape of his shoulders again and back to the back, closer 
to the spine, hesitantly making their way to the lower  part of his 
ribs.
	"But I can beat him again!" he erupted, turning around and 
sitting up, facing her. 
	Retracting her hands she looked at his fervent eyes and in 
great effort, she placed both palms on his shoulders, over the pecks 
of his chest.
	"You need to relax, master..." she softly said and she trembled 
more than him, as he complied to her gentle pressure and lied back on 
the bed, not for a moment taking his wide eyes off her.
	The light wind was cold and so was his skin as she gently 
rubbed it. He had his eyes closed and... she swore he found it hard 
to swallow... because of her...
	"I am half his age, damn it..." he went on to himself. "I 
should have made sure I killed him... I should have plucked off his 
Fucking head, damn it!"
	"Master..." she said full of worry, as her hands crawled upon 
his neck. She was so afraid when he was anxious... for the first time 
her hands could not relieve him...
	His eyes opened. His stare was translucent but she would swear, 
he could still target into her eyes, even behind the slots of her 
mask... She could never really hide herself from him... And so, only 
for a moment there she hesitated when he reached for her mask but she 
did not withdraw. For the first time, she did not care about the 
useless excuses but, biting her tongue and sealing her eyes, to make 
the first time he would look at her easier, she awaited.
	After some time, she was still wearing her mask.
	She opened her eyes and his hand rested on his chest, his face 
was turned to the open window and she couldn't tell if his eyes were 
open or shut. She could only tell he was in his state of sleeping, 
the one where nothing could entail him in touch with the rest of the 
world. He wanted to be alone.
	Softly she slid away, always looking upon him, the sheet only 
enhancing his structure and his face was turned away from her, 
outside the window. Tears gathered in her eyes as she left him, 
breathing half in pleasure and half sunk into that tangy feeling of 
unresponsiveness... 

	The Iron Fist tournament was an actuality. Kunimitzu was among 
the participants but she lost very early. Just as the best fighters 
were beginning to clear up.
	Her opponent was one she would have never evaluated as being so 
good. He was an old man, shorter than her even and yet, his skills 
were such as had baffled her from the very start.
	She used all she had. She hopped around, swinging fast and 
striking with her powerful kicks, but he was far more proficient than 
her. His hands had grappled her to submission and the worst of all, 
the crowd seeing her being defeated by the old man, hearing him laugh 
even and her angrily purring as she did, was even amused...
	It was a humiliating defeat.
	That day she hid to the loneliest corner of the house and alone 
she cried, cuddling her knees to her person. She didn't go to report 
to her master, as she always did whenever she accomplished his 
requests, had these been fights or any other jobs he sent her too. 
She was too ashamed to face him... How could she, when she had lost 
to his cost?
	It was later at night that she stuck out from her hideout and 
then one of the servants told her she had been called...
	Trembling she went to where she knew he would be. In one of the 
big sitting rooms.
	He was there.
	Others were with him in the room. She recognised them for being 
people he worked with; she had seen most of them before. They were 
too contestants in the Iron Fist. One was a tall dark skinned man 
with a line of hair growing on his head and fat lips, a face at best 
insolent. There was that woman who was dressed very provocatively and 
giggled all the time, one she remembered talking to him from close 
distances, her hand had rested on him on one occasion and he was 
smiling back at her... but so far he hadn't been with her. Yet she 
envied her gravely. The third man had dark hair tied in a ponytail 
behind his back and talked to the provocative woman... and there was 
Lee. He lied tiredly on an armchair, probably low on cocaine.
	For a little she stood at the door and only as he looked 
towards her, in agony she nodded. He was looking at her and in that 
moment, everything else in the room vanished. Everything but him.
	Slowly she left the door, trailing towards him. He kept looking 
at her, especially when she was closer and came on four. As she 
touched upon his knee, he didn't withdraw, letting her rest her chin 
upon his leg. Her hands rested on his knee and then, he reached out 
and gently rubbed his hand behind her nape, among her hair.
	Tears of joy came into her eyes.
	For him to do so, it meant that her defeat didn't matter... and 
in his silent regard, he comforted her in the best way there could 
be. She hadn't failed her master...
	Kunimitzu sat by his feet all during the evening and when 
everyone was about to leave, she stood up along with them, but she 
wouldn't follow. She just stared away but she knew he was the last to 
leave the room... She also knew he halted and looked back at her, 
even if she didn't see him.
	"Oh, Kuni..." she only heard his voice and only then she fully 
turned towards him. "Good job..." he said and the expression on his 
face was placid. 
	For some more time he was looking at her, until he turned to 
walk away.
	Below her mask, a smile unseen flowered and her eyes flooded 
with joy.

	Kunimitzu knew nearly everything about her master's 
associations with other people, and although she couldn't assess 
anything about it, she knew all the same that from all these people, 
she was the only one who actually meant something to him and was 
taken seriously, that knowledge filling her chest with pride. 
Especially when she was asked from people working for him to go and 
request him to appear, which happened very often in the days of the 
Iron Fist, where he was so hard to be contacted and everyone else 
dreaded to talk to him. Even Lee had told her to go at times, 
although his manner had been almost dictatorial, yet he too admitted 
to her powers over the lord of the house. And with those at mind, she 
went to his dojo that day and beseech him to come.
	Softly she pushed the thin parchment door away and looking 
inside her breath skipped once. Undecided, captivated by his sight, 
she leaned at the door and only trailed her stare upon him.
	She had watched him for a while, admiring him in his statue-
like tranquillity. He was surrounded from clouds of smoke, kneeled 
before a folding parchment screen and with his hands resting upon his 
knees in a pose of unrelenting discipline. His eyes were closed and 
however menacing he looked in his every other aspect, with his 
diabolically frightening eyes shut, he was a perfect picture of 
quiescence.
	Sliding her hand along the rim of the door, she walked inside 
the dojo.
	"Master..." she softly called at him but her voice wouldn't 
pull him out of his meditation. She swayed a few steps closer.
	So much calmness was unsettling.
	"Master?" she spoke again and still Kazuya didn't respond.
	She went on four and approached more, bending towards his face. 
She absorbed his picture as his eyes were shut and his tranquillity 
was almost deathly.
	"Master..." she whispered. She reached a few fingers that 
almost touched upon his face.
	Then she heard the breath.
	It wasn't Kazuya's breath for he hardly even breathed. It was a 
ghastly breath as if emitted through effort, so weak but it was 
obviously coming from a very powerful form of life.
	Kunimitzu dragged backwards.
	"Do not disrupt me!..." commanded a voice uncoloured by the 
vividness of the living and though it was no stronger than the air, 
it struck with psychic power.
	"Master?" Kunimitzu asked again doubtfully. She tried to get 
closer to her sleeping lord when the smoke around him elevated and 
begun consolidating. She jerked backwards and above Kazuya's head, 
gradually formed a human-like figure consisted of the dark ashy 
smoke. She watched in terror the figure uncoiling from around it two 
enormous bat wings and waving horns grew from its temples. It had an 
uncanny similarity to Kazuya from whom it seemed to emerge, it even 
had the wide, lowly igniting scorch across the chest, alabaster horns 
grew from its temples and the eyes were identical to his, even if 
only in the power of the stare...
	"Master!" Kunimitzu said aghast as she crawled away.
	"Leeeeave!..." commanded Kazuya's devilish substance and a 
serpentish tongue appeared between his vampire teeth.
	Kunimitzu didn't have to hear it twice. She jumped to her feet 
and dashed out of the dojo.


You cannot be in love with someone you have never seen... or can you?

	"Ah... Kuni..." he said and he regarded her with intense 
curiosity. So infatuated was his strangely deepened stare, it 
hindered her footsteps. Still she walked towards him, paralysed, even 
though there was no way he could have guessed her flare behind the 
mask.
	"You have asked me to come, master..." she said casually... 
with the usual constant voice she always used to address him, the one 
with the so much suppressed passion. Yet it was virtually impossible 
to hold down her voice much longer that time with his eyes so 
ardently focused upon her...
	She made it to his desk and he leaned back on his chair, 
arching his neck almost playfully. He was smiling... in this strange 
way...
	"Come here, Kuni..." he said in a soft tone and she had an urge 
to clasp her fingers to a fist. Trembling she walked around the desk 
towards him and he pushed his chair out of the desk...
	"Closer..." he murmured as she had reached the corner nearest 
to his chair. Her feet felt like they were chained on the floor and 
yet so desperate to fly towards him... 
	She made the few more steps and stood right before him. He was 
looking up at her and there was definitely a smile written on his 
otherwise firm lips...
	"Is that close enough, master?" she dared ask, almost 
stammering.
	"Perhaps..." he softly said, with a reckless smile towards her. 
Damn her if there wasn't a burning glow under the mist of his eyes!
	He looked at her a little more, then stretched his hand towards 
her, reaching for her thigh.
	Behind her mask her eyes fainted and she gasped without voice 
as his palm run smoothly on her thigh, following the curving line of 
the muscle. She looked out again and saw him regarding her 
construction while his fingers spread, covering more area of her leg, 
moving towards the inner side.
	"Closer..." he said again and it was an almost faint whisper in 
a dull voice.
	The tiny step she took brought her right before him, so close 
his knees were among hers. He placed both palms on her hips, soothing 
them as he looked at her with this teasing expression of one who 
knows the truth and knowing that the other is equally aware of it but 
dares not speak of it and thus he would use it against him...
	By this time, her skin quivered and where his hands touched 
her, fire was spreading. He chuckled as he looked at her and there 
was a lascivious glister in his eyes as his grip tightened around 
her, obliging her to bend her knees, moving towards him and rest upon 
his lap.
	"That's better..." he smiled and winded his strong arms firmly 
around her waist.
	She had his black compact eyes right before her, glowing with a 
luminescence she had never seen before, setting her in a rupturing 
heartbeat. His hard body was afire and she sensed it even more, as 
when he pulled her closer to him, she was rubbed against his hale 
muscles. Curling her hands around the neck she had so many times 
kneaded, knowing there was no exit from his tight embrace submerged 
her in luscious fire. Tears swelled in her eyes and her teeth 
trembled.
	His palms rubbed along the passage from her back and upon her 
chest, lightly sensing the bountiful charms of her figure, the ones 
he had never regarded before. He was only touching her and yet she 
felt her blood boiling as it flowed in her body, nearly crying with 
tears of complete joy. Her face was burning and she felt weak to even 
tighten her clasp around him.
	"You know what would make this better?" he asked in this soft 
playful voice, tilting his head as he spoke.
	Not even a breath distanced them in their embrace and she had 
no strength to ask him back.
	His hands moved away from her body and to her mask...
	The beating of her heart grew faster as he removed the hiding 
of her face and saw him uncovered for the first time... It should 
have been different for her too, seeing him behind no slots and being 
able to get closer to him.
	Face to face... for the first time for real. She shivered as if 
she was entirely bared before him. There was a serious but at the 
same time, enchanted look on his face. His palms smoothed their way 
upon her neck, enfolding her face within them as he pulled her 
towards him and lowering his lids, lead her to a delicious kiss.
	She really felt like she would faint.
	Closing her eyes she tasted his kisses, swallowing him 
voraciously, coiled in a fiery embrace, wrapping herself all around 
his adored body and her heart ascended to her mouth.
	Then the door opened.
	It opened right before her eyes, forcing her to look into 
reality, behind the slots of her foxen mask upon his aloof, 
unemotional face.
	"Kuni, what took you so long? I was about to call for you 
again..."
	Swallowing in great effort, she forced down her throat the 
reminders of the precious taste of her dream.
	"I am sorry, master..."
	"Don't be." he said and walked back into the office, leaving 
the door opened for her to follow. When she shut the door behind her, 
he was sitting back on his chair and the look on his face was no less 
cold and indifferent than usual.
	"I have this task for you today. I want you to... "

	Fantasies had been visiting her very often and even if she 
didn't know what name to give to that new flavour of her emotions, 
she knew she was very happy when she was around him and even sought 
every opportunity to be around him. It was since very early that she 
felt like that for him. Ever since that moment he had picked her up in 
his arms in that fight in the streets. She had known him from before, 
but so did most everyone in the city of Tokyo. Even as she had been 
competing in the same tournament as him, two years before, it was as 
if he had come into reality only that day.


	Lee Chaolan was not a bad looking man. In fact he was the exact 
opposite. With a face of perfect symmetry, absolutely smooth skin, 
clearly defined eyebrows and dark brown lustrous eyes that stared 
with an almost permanent wanton expression in addition to his good 
athletic built, was a treat any woman would be foolish to refuse. 
Nevertheless, his childish looks and matching behaviour of offending 
the opposite sex often caused a negative effect. 
	Lee enjoyed harassing women. Sometimes, when he felt depressed, 
when his system desperately needed to intoxicate the gush of the 
amphetamines he fed himself with, he would go out and be every 
woman's nightmare. Stalking, impetuous eyeing, anything to get his 
victims to adopt a look of discomfort. He then retreated, discarding 
them like nothing and would move to the next one.
	He was charming and he had no problem engaging with women. He 
could provide himself casual sex whenever he felt like. But he just 
had to annoy one or two, once every now and then. He had to see the 
colour of fear in their eyes. Abused persons almost every time return 
the favour...
	He didn't like Kunimitzu much either and her masked face 
irritated him as it only seemed to be one unaffected. Yet, otherwise 
she was very expressive in her actions; when she was under threat she 
purred like a wild cat. Because she annoyed him so much, he enjoyed 
her fear as much as anything, especially as he knew of her blind 
loyalty towards Kazuya and how she secretly preserved an unspoken 
passion for him. 
	Once again he was harassing her. Kunimitzu purred dangerously, 
making sure the sharp scythe knife she held at hand had got Lee's 
attention.
	"Wha?..." Lee spelled almost indolently. "You threaten me?"
	With a crescenting purr, Kunimitzu swung the knife in a 
slashing attempt on Lee's stomach, but he bent his body away, 
laughing. 
	"Wo, hey! She will really kill me!"
	He could have grabbed her arm right then and flip her over, but 
he deliberately didn't do it and furthermore, he ensured she 
understood it. He was sure the slots radiated vehemence and a smile 
replied to her.
	"Had it been Kazuya, you'd do a split in no time..." he jested.
	A pack of three roundhouses flashed, aiming for his head but he 
was fast enough to avoid them all.
	"Ho, I didn't exactly mean it!" he sniggered.
	Kunimitzu adopted a guard stance purring deeply as a threat.
	"I thought I told you to leave her alone!" a voice ordered and 
Lee turned around to see Kazuya with a dark frown at the door. This 
time the conflict was to end with his intervention. Lee knew that 
Kazuya, however as he didn't know of Kunimitzu's desire for him, 
appreciated her greatly and acted towards her protectively. One more 
thing he used to make fun of.
	"Uhoh, the betrayed adorer has arrived! Weeee! It's getting 
fun!" he said, taking a safe view of both of them, a smile written 
across his face.
	Kazuya walked roundly, speculating him.
	"You are junked again... You are being disgusting when you are 
junked!"
	"Fuck you!" Lee shouted, pointing a rude finger towards him. 
"Don't you tell me what to do, you gutter of shit!"
	A high kick stroke on his smooth silver hair on the back of his 
head. The kick had merely knocked him enough to step forward and turn 
his attention back to Kunimitzu.
	"Bitch!" he growled about to charge on her.
	It was Kazuya to get him this time. Locking his arms behind his 
back so Lee yelled, he halted him.
	"Don't press the abundance of my kindness, ungrateful 
brother..."
	For a little more he held him with the arm sprained until 
finally he let go of him and Lee staggered a few steps when released. 
He didn't look back at his foster brother. He was merely grateful to 
be away safe this time.
	Once Kazuya was gone, Lee no longer attempted to annoy her. Hr 
only left and she remained alone. Happy that her master was 
protecting her, sad that he wouldn't stay behind with her. That's 
where she needed him and not in the fighting ground.

	Lee Chaolan was not exactly her favourite and Kunimitzu was 
perhaps the only female employee of the Mishima Syndicate who 
disliked the silver hared devil. For one thing he kept annoying her 
whenever he could, the more Kazuya was angered about it. She had no 
idea that he acted towards her in an act similar to that which Kazuya 
had shown to him when he had first arrived much like her, poor and 
with nothing belonging to him, nor that this was his subconscious way 
of revenge to the torture he received from his foster brother. But 
even if she knew and she surely knew of the tortures, as she had many 
times saved Lee from Kazuya's irascible rage by throwing herself 
between them and absorbing her master's anger in her daring embrace, 
she still couldn't blame her lord about it. No excuse was needed 
either for when the heart commands, the mind obediently follows and 
that had always been her case.


You'll never know how I've watched you from the shadows as a child
You'll never know how it feels to get SO close and be denied...


	What exactly were her feelings towards him? He was her master 
for sure and her employer. What was the nature of the attraction she 
felt towards him? She herself wasn't sure if it was the acclaimed 
power of his person that imposed it, as it often happens with people 
of strong personality, or plain physical desire. From his side there 
never was a sign of reciprocation and Kunimitzu couldn't tell how far 
he was aware of her fancy towards him, like he couldn't be aware of 
how her eyes blurred behind the slits of her foxen mask each time he 
would turn his black eyes on her, even if only casually, setting her 
head in a feverish chill.
	They didn't talk much but Kunimitzu was convinced they had 
established a mutual deeper art of communication and every monologue 
he addressed to her and she replied was as if loaded with so much 
secret meaning, as to palpitate her heart to bleeding. Talking to 
him, even if only so little was enough to make her cheeks burn and 
her skin to crawl with lust.
	Yet, even as he was in command of her, he never required any of 
the favours her gender may have hinted apropos. She gladly executed 
his orders to every job he sent her to, but she had always secretly 
hoped that the next request would be of a more personal nature. But 
he had never shown any form of interest towards her and she knew her 
longing was but a wishful thinking, the recognition of reality 
tearing her heart in two.
	What did he know of her rejected love? Nothing. Neither did he 
even want to see her as a woman as it appeared. And she had tried. 
Numerous times she dared touch him. She knew what he liked. Many a 
times when she saw him deep in consideration she had quietly reached 
for him and placed two soft palms on his strapping neck. Her strong 
fingers massaged his hinder muscles and she knew he was relieved by 
his tension, whatever it was, and she gladly offered him that 
service, not without a hint of desire too as she gripped his flesh. 
He never sent her away, he never told her anything at a time like 
that, he would only close his eyes and lean his head back, sinking at 
the comfort of her touch. Her hands would craftily move to his 
muscular back and shoulders and she would suppress tears behind her 
gritting teeth, not daring to advance anymore, especially at times 
when he would lay back his head upon her and she could see he was 
even turned on... But never, not once did he open his tranquil shut 
eyes to let her see them blurred from craving or even reach back for 
her. Never. He just wouldn't touch her. And Kunimitzu would soon 
slide away, leaving him mesmerised almost floating in the arms of a 
slumber and retreat quietly as she came, she'd seek for a hideout to 
unleash her tears. And he never knew.
	How many times she had eyed from her hideout a woman talking to 
him with envy, wishing he would nod once and she would take the 
signal to leap on her and slash her throat open... She envied Anna 
Williams who claimed to be protecting him against an attempt for his 
life and he had secretly told her that it was only a rivalry between 
her and her sister... She was satisfied to hear he was planning to 
capture both and place them as some sort of pigs to a machine an aged 
man was taking care of at the basement of the mansion, but still she 
was so envious when Anna spoke to him, smiling at him meaningfully 
and he returned a similarly nasty smile at her... even though he 
never advanced towards her. That alone gave her hopes and sustained 
her belief that he was keeping the distance because someday he 
intended to win over her trust and make her remove her mask, like she 
was planning to.
	That was before the other woman came.
	Unlike Anna, she dressed simplistic and her face didn't have 
the glint of make up. She looked more like a girl too and her voice 
was one very beautiful, even she had to admit. Its sound was by 
itself soothing, constant and not too high in pitch, soft in the 
speaking without emotional leaps, a sign of a person of intellect and 
furthermore, gentle emotions. From her voice alone Kunimitzu could 
easily tell that she was very polite, making everyone around her feel 
happy... 
	It was exactly that reason for which Kunimitzu hated her the 
most. She wasn't especially clever or knowing of the rest of the 
world but she knew how her voicing differed greatly from the rest of 
those she had heard. Compared to that woman's way of talking, she 
spoke incoherently, her voice was dull and clearly uncultivated, 
short cut at the simple phrases she used, some of them not perfect in 
their syntax as well. Lee had many times humored her way of speaking, 
either by mimicking it at her face or simply making faces at it and 
she knew her master was alike aware of her inability to express 
herself like them. Only he never showed her any disdain to it but the 
coming of that woman told her that in truth, she and him were two 
different beings as far as talking was concerned. Him talking to her 
didn't contain that unspoken commitment anymore. That woman had come 
and just by talking she had shattered a bond she had toiled over for 
years.
	Kunimitzu had to suffer seeing her coming to the house. She and 
him were talking together and Kunimitzu was watching from above. She 
was talking and he listened and she knew that he didn't speak much 
only to hear her voice, not really paying attention to her words but 
floating in the soft constant sound of her talking. He enjoyed her 
speaking, he enjoyed seeing her look at him in precaution or rather, 
fear. Or so it seemed to her, that the woman was afraid of him but in 
the same sweet fear she too felt whenever he looked into her eyes. 
Only, when he looked at her, when he talked to her he didn't smile so 
pleasantly... and even his voice sounded different. Just as deep as 
always but more melodious. Almost... appealing.
	She didn't have to be extremely smart to know that he liked 
her... In fact, exactly as she was so simple in her ways, she knew 
that at glimpse, as alike well she knew her master. She kept watching 
all night long and was tormented at the intimacy of their dialogue. 
She was almost vivacious when the other woman stood up to leave only 
to be severed shortly afterwards, when she saw she was far from 
gone...
	She saw him holding her in his arms, leading her to his 
bedroom, how she clung on him, how she bore into his embrace, closing 
her eyes in a tearful simper of so much unspoken joy, the same joy 
she had longed for but would never get as she would never follow him 
to his room, not under his arm for sure.
	Her walking was heavy and soon it was that she couldn't shut 
off the sounds coming from the chamber... In her ears they rung and 
her mind was empty from sorrow as she strayed pointlessly in the main 
hall that she didn't notice Lee Chaolan sneaking upon her.
	"Well what are you eavesdropping at?" he said, almost laughing 
as she snapped in a startle back and her heart was doused in fright. 
The smile on his face reminded her of how he knew of her feelings, 
how he knew her pain and along, how he had never told her but 
considered her stupid, all because of her inadequate manner of 
speaking, revealing how little she knew about it. And still, she 
walked towards him, clasping one wrist to her hand to hold the 
trembling.
	"You want to see my face?" she said in an almost velvety, 
deeply mesmerising voice that was in fact the best articulated one 
she had ever uttered in years.
	Lee's expression turned to a frown as he was looking at her 
annoyed but with curiosity.
	"What? Is it now that..." he begun to say but Kunimitzu halted 
him by placing her palms upon his round big shoulders.
	"Do you?" she repeated in the same voice, her foxen mask 
getting closer to his face, almost touching his chin.
	Lee remained with the jaw hanging for a moment.
	"Sure..." he said uncertain.
	Removing her hands, she took one step back. Then she took off 
her mask and after a long time, she felt the air on her exposed face. 
	Lee looked intensely into her fervid eyes and when she 
approached, he met her lips into a sodden kiss that melted their 
mouths together. When he retracted, he had his hands around her waist 
and her face of complete calmness opposite of him, that face he had 
never seen before but it looked upon him with understanding. Her 
hands were wrapped around his neck and when she massaged him, pulling 
him back to another kiss, Lee was indeed very happy to see her face.

	Thereafter, her relationship with Lee improved, even if they 
never became really keen towards one another. But as far as her 
master went... she knew she was losing him. She saw him reserved 
towards her and she knew it was because of the other woman...
	She tried to tell herself that her master was happy with the 
other and so should she, as she knew there are times one shouldn't be 
possessive. And yet, the next day, when she was down the stairs and 
met with her, anger swelled like boiling milk within her.
	She halted right at seeing her, and so did she, facing each 
other intensely immobile. Her eyes widened and blinked once.
	Kunimitzu purred at her a threatening growl full of her boiling 
unrequited passion. But She couldn't know. Her wide so apparently 
innocent eyes gazed at the sharp blade of her knife she brought to 
the height her chest and was just relieved and breathed heavily out 
as two strong palms, His palms lied assuring on her shoulders.
	Kunimitzu watched her eyes shutting and how she longed to steal 
this emotion of absolute comfort she sunk into, and that one as well, 
when she looked again at her, almost hurt but now her eyes were 
meeting those eyes she adored, the marble hard black eyes of her 
lord, grim as he regarded her displeased, wanting her to be away... 
Leave him alone with the other woman...
	Lowering her knife, she obeyed.

	What did She know of him? What did she Ever know?
	She had just met him! She couldn't know what he liked, what 
touched him, what could find the way past the shroud of his heart. 
She didn't know how he spent the day, tiny things as to when he took 
a shower, breakfast, how he liked clothing himself, which flavours he 
enjoyed and which he avoided, what made his head swell, which muscles 
went numb the most and what could restore them... 
	Hell if she didn't know... She was there, next to him all the 
time, hidden behind her foxen mask, watching him so close, in every 
step he made and yet it was She whom he had pleated on his bed, She 
who tasted his kisses all over her body, she who wailed from pleasure 
in his chamber all night. Why?!?
	Was it the darn mask? Was it the slender grace of that woman's 
figure, so contrasting to her well built and certainly more capable 
limbs, those limbs she yearned to use against her? And he...
	Tears gathered into her eyes and her mouth tasted sourly. He 
never gave it One thought. He couldn't wait. He wouldn't expect for 
this higher confidence to build its walls firmly around them. He 
wouldn't wait...
	Kunimitzu didn't think rationally. Her mind was guided by her 
instincts and emotions. The thought that this possibility might have 
never even crossed his mind didn't appear in her judgement. To her 
vision she only saw betrayal.
	With all her strength she gulped a painful howl down a bitter 
throat. It should have been her moaning in that bed.

	Those days when she suffered from her emotions, she would spend 
long hours in the storage room and broke down whatever piece of 
artillery she came across, only to put it back together. She enjoyed 
creating stuff of the like, it was perhaps her only hobby, if that's 
what it could be called. Once upon she even assembled various 
apparatuses of her own conception and of which some worked, only now 
her imagination halted and she only did that to keep her mind away 
from what she knew to be true. Even when her master had captured Anna 
and another woman she recalled from the previous tournament to take 
them for experiments in the underground laboratory and promised her 
she could at some stage work in these delicate machine, she wasn't as 
pleased as she would otherwise be.
	She knew him well enough to see how the other woman had 
influenced him. He wouldn't show it as he would continue with his 
life but Kunimitzu could receive the signal of the emotions behind 
it. She couldn't tell it by studying his behaviour, but, gifted with 
the authenticity of the unlearned, she could hear how the throb of 
his blood had altered, how deeply his breath reached and how soon it 
would come out. She even sensed the temperature of his body, having 
slightly dropped and even his own distinctive scent was different. It 
tasted stronger and more delicious...
	All so many changes had come to him, all because of that other 
woman... When that day she was gone, along with her a burden left 
from her heart, as if by disappearing from sight, she ceased to 
exist. But she knew it wasn't this way. Her master had a different 
way of thinking and to that way, she still existed in his mind... 
Nothing could take her from there, even as he didn't know it himself. 
Kunimitzu knew how he was suffering from not knowing of his emotions 
and she wanted to relieve him, but she also knew he wanted to relish 
them... He wanted to be with the other woman... And yet, she couldn't 
stop feeling this way about him. There was no other way she could 
feel.

	She had gone out of her ordinary to actually seek for him. She 
might have frequently been spying him but other than the occasions 
where they met by chance or when she was sent to him, she didn't 
deliberately go to find him. Yet, that time she did. Despair leads 
people to unbelievable actions, far more extreme than hers.
	She knew he was taking a bath at the time and indeed she saw 
him there when she came to the ample bathroom. The sun was coming in 
from the irregular windows in a soft mesmerising intensity and her 
master was there, facing away from her as he lay in the low bath 
tube, probably with the eyes shut, his elbows resting on the rim as 
he reposed.
	Gasping she walked lightly towards the bath, making not the 
slightest noise and kneeled right behind him. It was as soon as she 
put her fingers on his neck that he leaned his head back to rest it 
on her joined knees, her tight clothing soaked the few drops from his 
bristle crops. Once again she swallowed a sigh, thankful for his 
touch on her.
	With her fingertips she massaged along the limber skin below 
his jaw and her eyes couldn't leave his entranced face. He stirred 
only a little as to breathe and the water around him murmured so 
softly she felt urged to dive into it and wrap herself around him. 
She merely slid her hands down the muscles of his shoulders to the 
shapely pecks, until her fingers soaked in the water and gently 
pulled back, not completely removing her body from the bent position 
that almost enfolded his head in her.
	"You have been concerned, master..." she muttered in her own, 
unnaturally soft, matured female voice.
	"As to how?" he replied in a reposed interrogation.
	"You... haven't been yourself..." Kunimitzu went on and every 
part of her body that could sense anything at all turned aflame while 
her strong fingers rubbed the layer of muscles over his chest, right 
over where the water left them uncovered.
	She waited a little for him to talk back to her... but he 
didn't and suppressing a gasp, she brought courage in her heart.
	"That woman..." she said and new blazes surrounded her head, 
only these were the cold, thorny blazes of shame.
	"Jun..." he confirmed, always drowsed. Her hands could not take 
her off his mind, not even for a second...
	"Yes..."
	"What about her?" he asked. He even sounded strict... or was it 
her thinking?
	"Master... She is not like us..." she cognisably said, her eyes 
endeavouring his shoulders. Only his head was slightly lifted from 
her knees...
	"She is polite and I like her company..." he affirmed. That was 
all that she could take.
	Her hands weakly rested on him and she closed her eyes, full of 
tears left without words. He moved.
	She opened her eyes and he had turned around, resting on his 
elbow, right next to her knee and looked at her.
	"Actually, I meant to talk to you about this... you have been 
very hostile towards her, and I don't see why."
	And she found no words to tell him. She only bowed her head and 
before she couldn't take anymore, she stood up~
	~or attempted to. He had been aware enough to clasp her hand 
before she even got to her feet. She looked back at him and his 
expression was however firm, very confident too. He looked into her 
eyes... and he couldn't see it.
	"Kunimitzu... I have come to consider you as a childhood 
friend... and as a such I demand you to tell me what is going on."
	And at the intimacy of his words, she found all the consolation 
she would ask for. It wasn't what she had hoped for... but it was 
something not to be discarded either...
	"It's nothing master... I just fear for you..." she said 
fighting the rasp of her tears.
	The clutch of his hand upon her wrist eased and his palm moved 
over her own... Kunimitzu sensed his warm touch gratefully holding 
her hand, as she could feel the uneasiness and difficulty he found in 
expressing what he felt. But he tapped his fingers on her hand and 
his face was now calm and thankful.

	But there was a change in her master and that was for sure. A 
change beyond the presence of the other woman... and it was not until 
the last moment that she recognised it. She had seen it before but 
only at the end could she accept it to be what it was, once there was 
no doubt... but neither did she believe it, not until she saw it. 
Even later.
	That day, she hadn't seen him until late at night, when  a 
servant, intruding in her working space told her he had asked for 
her... and eagerly as always she jumped up and made to where he was.
	The house that day was completely dark. There were no lights on 
and it so seemed that everyone else was gone, even the servants. And 
yet, she couldn't hear her master, she couldn't sense her lord in 
that emptiness, as if he was too gone... only as she entered the room 
he was in, only then did she notice him... because he glowed with a 
weak white aura, as if he were a ghost. And her surprise made her 
heart jump, more than usually.
	Contrary to her, it seemed to have known her to come as she 
stepped into the room and under his eyes. He was there, looking 
sombre as ever and as soon as she stopped, looking at him, he begun 
talking.
	"I have a last task for you, Kunimitzu..." he worded and 
already her heart skipped. "You must find Wang Jinrey... and hand him 
this letter..." he completed and stretched his hand holding a letter 
to her.
	Kunimitzu hesitantly took the letter in her hand but the fact 
he was sending her to meet the man who so awfully defeated her in 
battle was not the reason of her trembling anxiety.
	"A last task, master?" she asked, the most discerning question 
she ever posed.
	But as he did not reply and looked away, with the letter at 
hand, she took a step closer. His back wasn't moving as he breathed 
but she knew there was something in his mind... something different 
and one she dreaded. At then, she didn't completely know why.
	"Kuni..." his voice reached for her and she halted, awaiting. 
Soon he continued what he wanted to tell. Each of his words filled 
her with horror.
	"Once tomorrow comes, you won't be safe here anymore... there 
is nothing I can do about it... Promise me you will go away... and 
please take Lee with you... I fear for him..."
	Her heart was in a mad drumbeat because that unspecified thing 
started getting a horrendous actuality, however she declined to 
accept it.
	"Why are you saying such horrible things, master?" she dared to 
ask, but she didn't want his reply anyway. She knew her lord was 
dying.
	He wouldn't have to tell her the words, not even speak, because 
she understood him very well by then and inept creatures get those 
things.
	She shivered in horror and she could see him lost in that 
dreadful coldness she had so many times picked wavering around him, 
only now he was immersed in it and there was no way it would let him 
go until it would have ingested all of him... Poor master... he would 
sink into the pool of his own sorrow... all alone...
	Her strong and otherwise steady hands, unfastened her mask and 
in fear they removed it. Cold drift hit upon her dampened face and as 
she looked at him for the first time without the mask, he was just 
the same... only much closer, more tangible... more adorable...
	"Do not you want to see my face, master?" she asked, her voice 
feebly quivering, unchanged in echo as all the times but sounding 
different, even to her own ears.
	He didn't look back. He didn't even take a breath.
	"Let's leave it this way, Kuni... perhaps it is better..." was 
all that he said. And Kunimitzu swallowed her tears. Once again.
	Clutching at the mask and the letter in her quavering hands, 
she walked closer to him and once she was right behind him, she 
placed one clutching palm upon his hardy neck... Her fingers kneaded 
on the skin the same way they had done each time before but the fact 
she wasn't covered and the knowing this was the last time made her 
grip weak and her fingers trembling, the touch warmer and more deeply 
longed than ever before.
	She closed her face more than she ever thought she could 
approach onto him and sensed the faint smell of his skin, gritting 
her teeth and shutting her eyes. Before she knew it either, she 
rushed and stole one sucking kiss from his neck. And then another 
three, draining his salty taste and him if she could, the last kiss 
leaving a soft bite upon him.
	"Goodbye master..." she uttered and in a sprint she run away, 
clenching her mask upon her chest, her eyes shut, flooding with 
tears.
	Vigorous footsteps chased her and he caught her before she was 
very far. Right before the door.
	She halted, crying, he stood behind her back, gripping at her, 
his breath fell upon her nape. She heard his rapid heartbeat, not 
undefiled from masculine desire. It only needed one forceful turning 
to make her face him in all her shame.
	"Please master..." she wept and she surrendered herself.
	He never moved either. His grips upon her gradually loosened.
	"I never knew, Kuni... I never knew..." he said deeply and she 
knew he longed to let his head fall and rest upon her, but he 
wouldn't. He would respect her secrecy and preserve the distance to 
the last moment, so they would never know what would happen if he 
forced her around and looked into her eyes, whether he would like to 
smooth his fingers on her cheeks and through her hair before melting 
together in a long lasting kiss.
	It was too late to make a change, a wrong place, a wrong time 
and in that never to be togetherness she found out all she had ever 
longed to find, things that were new to her because he wasn't aware 
of them either in order to speak about them, even though he had 
expressed them so many times but didn't know what they were all 
about...
	And the other woman...
	He had loved her, there was no doubt. But he had loved her too. 
In a different way or the same, it didn't matter. No rule says you 
can only love one. How can the love for one person make anyone blind 
to the devotion of another and how can loving feelings not be 
returned by alike caring ones? Loving one couldn't make incapable of 
loving one other. Kunimitzu wouldn't understand the philosophy of 
this but a simple heart is closer to the truth that needs no words to 
be revealed and her heart conceived the meaning of it and more.
	Kazuya slid his hands away from her and didn't bother her while 
she buckled her mask back on her face, her every limp benumbed. She 
dragged her steady steps to the door, her mask was hiding her tears 
and even her cracked voice wouldn't show them ever again.
	"Kuni..."
	She halted by the door and fought against her urge to turn 
around.
	"Thank you for everything."
	His voice was steady. Colourless as always but not in the way 
he spoke to the others. She discerned a different echo in it for the 
first time after so long and recognised it with bitter joy. And she 
walked away, knowing she would never see him, ever again.

	Even at his perplexity, Kunimitzu didn't find it easy facing 
him. Wang Jinrey stared at her, wondering how she had managed to 
sneak into his room and wondering what she had wanted, silently 
standing before him with her knife secured at her belt.
	"What is it?" his scrutinised voice asked her and she fought 
her discomfort, tending him the letter she held at hand.
	Taking a few steps closer, he took the letter from her hand and 
glanced at it once. She saw his eyes flashing with recognition. He 
then looked again up at her.
	"I'll attend to it..." he affirmed, returning her non-existent 
ever persistent stare that many thought they had seen and baffled at 
its unreality hated her for it, with her master being the only 
possible exception... Wang Jinrey seemed perturbed before that eyeing 
and returned an equally discomfiting gaze. She broke free of it and 
left, as silently as she had come.
	There really was no point in staying more than needed.

	When she came back, after handing the letter to Wang Jinrey, 
the house was silent as before. A slight surprise met her, to hear 
voices from the big hall.
	The room was dark but she could hear them. It was her master, 
speaking softly even with concern and after a time, a sweet feminine 
voice answered him. Did she say that she loved him or she only 
imagined the sharp stabbing through her heart?
	With steps light as a cat's she approached the unclosed door 
through where she had left and peeked in through.
	Darkness could not conceal the truth from her eyes. The other 
woman was there...
	There with him. In the loneliness of the sitting room. 
Together. Embraced. For the last time. Forever.
	She sighed deep within her soul. For once more her eyes wetted 
and her heart was shattered but she had to regain strength. She had 
received all of his love. She would have never felt it. Yet in her 
heart, she had no longer needed his verification. For she knew. He 
could alike love them both. And he had loved her. In his own peculiar 
way that cannot be spoken, because for a sentiment to be described, 
it has to be completely felt, understood and verified. But the human 
mind cannot perceive such delicate sensations and the soul has no 
voice. So these things can only be transmitted by the heart. Like 
they had always been.
	Kunimitzu went to the next room. It was a small office with a 
desk and libraries along two facing walls. Without turning on any 
light, she sat on a settee, crossing her legs upon it, straightening 
her back, without a tear of those blurring in her lids rolling on her 
fleshy cheek behind her mask. Unmoved with devotion. He was her 
master and she had loved him. Like he did. And tonight, even if for 
the last time, she would do what she had promised him to do. She 
would stay by his side and protect him.


The last rapine

	When the Iron Fist tournament ended, Kunimitzu watched her 
master dying at the hands of his father, hidden under the seats of 
the stadium. Nobody noticed her.
	She didn't cry. Not a tear escaped her eyes. Because his death 
she had seen the night before and perhaps even from the very 
beginning, so many times she had looked into his now forever gone 
eyes. All this time the sorrow had killed her and her tears had 
dried. She didn't die when Kazuya collapsed dead on the floor. After 
that moment, her head was humming. She didn't hear anything more.

	Lee was gone before she could stop him and take him away with 
her, as she had promised. He was too in grief, high on one of the 
drugs he took now and then and beyond her listening. He broke down 
when she attempted to ask him to follow her, running away and 
abandoning the house on his own.
	Kunimitzu watched without moving, disappointed that he hadn’t 
heard her but alike, contented, as much as she could comprehend either 
of those feelings. She hadn’t failed her master. In a way, her 
intervention made Lee snap leave the house, as he had wished, even 
without her. 
	And so too that left her the last few moments to do what she had 
wanted to do.

	It was ordered that Kazuya Mishima would be given a proper 
ritual after death, even though his cadaver would then be discarded 
inside an active volcano. The controversy of those two different acts 
didn't bother Kunimitzu, for how could she understand the purpose of 
either of them?
	She only knew where they kept him, waiting for the priests and 
that was all she needed to know. Her mind was firm as it lead her 
steps towards him.
	She slipped into the broad room and in the centre of it, upon a 
table covered by a deep velvet cloth, a body of someone who only a 
little before was alive, lied immobile. The exposed skin nearly 
glowed in the dark, paler as life had abandoned it. Looking at it 
Kunimitzu halted, as she recognised the glow coming from him. It was 
the same ghastly emission she had seen surrounding him so many times 
before, especially when in the dark, when he was still alive. Was she 
really so impetuous that she wasn't able to tell it was the shadow of 
death, or had this been her only attempt to decoy herself, telling it 
was something different?
	That must have been it, she thought as she was getting closer 
to his last bed. She had refused to believe that she had sensed death 
around him, even though she knew she did. Creatures distanced from 
the rushed daily life and are closer to her simplicity know when 
someone is about to die.
	Kazuya Mishima was lying upon the velvet covered table, his 
limbs evenly arranged and the eyes that had horrified so many would 
remain forever sealed. The frown had settled on his lips and 
Kunimitzu wished his eyes would open, even though it would scare her 
life away, but maybe, if Death would look into his eyes, would be 
frightened too and walk away...
	Other than that, he bared no signs of abuse or dirt, as though 
the battle he had fought never occurred. Strangely, he was restored, 
if only for her. She could have assumed he was sleeping like he was 
all of the times she walked into his chamber, silently just to admire 
him, even if she suspected he had known... only this once, she knew 
he wasn't sleeping... The battle was not a dream and he was already 
gone from this world or maybe he was closing his eyes because in 
the other world people walk with the eyes shut... maybe that was the 
reason...
	Yes, that was it... He wasn't dead and she would allow herself 
to be fooled once more. He was alive... only sleeping... So calm, so 
silent... She wouldn't wake him up.
	Gently she tapped her fingers upon his face, trailing down to 
his jaw, the neck, following to the body. Cold was his skin and paler 
than before, the skin that looked so aristocratic but she knew it had 
tasted the hardships of poverty and living in nature's mercy, under 
unjust beating like herself... She took his head in her palms and 
bent upon it, laying her snout upon his forehead in respect. So would 
the last farewell come, from her perhaps not too unreal face. She 
wouldn't take off her mask. He didn't want it then, she wouldn't do 
it now.
	Few was her time and realising it, she frantically spread a 
handkerchief below his head. She wouldn't let him go uncremated 
either. She wouldn't let him go without taking a last memory of 
him... She couldn't go without a last act of robbery...
	Swiftly she worked her skilled fingers on the knife, cutting 
off his hair, gathering them in the bundle. She controlled her tears 
to preserve her clear vision as she cut his hair properly. Then, when 
she was done, she gathered the handkerchief and placed the knife back 
at her belt.
	Undecided she looked at him a little more. The only thing that 
had changed was his hair that had a finger's length, coating in a 
dense black layer his sleeping head. Yes, he was only sleeping... Her 
master... her lord... How could she ever let him go? How could she 
ever believe he was dead?
	She felt urged to run upon him and once more clasp his head 
into her embrace, when she heard voices approaching. The priests were 
on their way. In a last act of despair, she rushed upon him and so 
she did.
	"Goodbye master!" she faintly whispered, silently so as not to 
wake him and without stroking his cheeks again, she run off.

	With the bundle of hair in her clutch she run through the back 
corridors of the mansion she knew so well, without anyone meeting 
her. Only, a little before the exit, her heart couldn't take her 
anymore, her vision couldn't lead her anymore. She stretched her hand 
and panted on the wall.
	She couldn't believe she was leaving...
	So much behind she had left...
	The bundle in her hands was warm and hair sticking out pinched 
her fingers. One memory in her hand...
	She couldn't take that memory. It was too heavy to carry. But 
she couldn't throw it away either. She couldn't stay and she couldn't 
go.
	A window lay open before her. Her bright sunlighted escape from 
all she had ever cared for all her life...
	She knelt on the corner and blinded from tears, she took off 
her mask. With her vision blurred, she unfolded the handkerchief and 
grabbed a handful of the harsh, cut hair. She clenched them into her 
fist with desperate passion before forcing them down her mouth.
	Hair stuck on her sodden palm and spread everywhere upon her 
and the floor, the tears of pain mixing with these of her body's 
reaction. But she grabbed another handful of hair and ate them, 
despite the jerking of her jaw as she cried. Hair stuck to her throat 
and tears blinded her. She coughed at the third handful and for a 
while she stopped, weeping over the pile of the black hair on the 
white handkerchief... 
	Then she went on. She gulped mouthful after mouthful of black, 
finger length, coarse hair along with tiny tears and she went on 
gulping, even though she choked coughing back hair mixed in saliva 
and blood... She wouldn't stop until she would swallow all his hair 
and continued forcing them down with zealous devotion, so she would 
always keep him within her...
	...and when no more hair was left, she only wept, the prickle 
down her neck only reminding her of how shamefully she had treated 
his last sweet memories...
	And then she stood up. She wiped her face with her handkerchief 
and dried her eyes. Steadfastly she buckled the mask back on her head 
and took the leap out of the window, under the sun, towards the 
distance.

	Perhaps there was no record of Kunimitzu's appearance anywhere 
after that day but even if there were... it surely mentioned she has 
never spoken. Not a single word.


				The End